Piano
by shinkou no uta
Summary: The melody refuses to let up. It haunts his dreams, his waking moments, and even the very air he breathes in. If only he succumbs.. Cloud x Aeris. Oneshot


Title: **Piano**  
Category: Games » Final Fantasy VII  
Author: shinkou no uta  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
Published: 06-08-09, Updated: 06-08-09  
Chapters: 1, Words: 1,505

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

'What's that doing here?'

Cloud came from an afternoon making deliveries to find a handsome upright piano sitting innocently inside the bar.

'I went to the outskirts of Midgar and found 'ol Jenkins trying to get rid of that thing.' Cid gulped down his lime water before continuing, 'See, he's alone and old and when he saw me coming, he leapt straight at me and told me to take it. Said he couldn't bear dying and leaving the only heirloom he has to the mercy of the slumdogs there. Would have chucked the damn thing at me if I said no.'

'You could imagine my surprise when Cid came barging here blabbering about the piano wasting away inside his baby. So I told him he can leave it here. I thought it would accent the bar.' Tifa paused from the act of wiping the glasses to look at Cloud. A mixture of sadness and consternation crossed her features upon seeing him staring at the piano. It shouldn't have bothered her; as far as she knew, music shouldn't mean anything to him. However, the look on his face doesn't fit with her assumption. What was that she found there – guilt? Sadness?

'Cloud?' No reply. It's not like she's not used to it. Cloud's mind was like a quiet lake – silent yet deep. She spent years trying to discern what was hiding behind those blue eyes but she always ran into a wall. She doubted anyone had ever broken through his defenses. Except maybe…

Tifa shook her head. Almost three years have passed but the memory refuses to die. Even now, it brought tears to all of their eyes, more so for this man who had never shed them again after that fateful day.

Aeris. The name tasted bittersweet on her tongue and brought back a torrent of memories she thought she'd buried somewhere. That vision of pink who never failed to lighten the darkest days was now marred by the flash of silver. And then, there it was.

Blood.

The soft thudding of boots broke through her reverie. Cloud swept his fingers on the mahogany finish, his expression still unfathomable. She made her way to his side and said, 'Just a little polishing and it'll be good as new.' Taking a deep breath, she plowed on, 'Cloud, is there something wrong? You've been acting a little strange ever since you walked in here.'

'No, I'm fine. I think I'll rest now.' Withdrawing his hand, Cloud made his way up the stairs. Tifa waited for the door to close before releasing a sigh.

'Aaw, come on Teef, haven't you gotten used to him yet? That kid hasn't unfrozen since the dawn of time.' Right on cue, Cid slumped over the counter in a dead faint.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He didn't bother changing; he collapsed directly on the sheets. Funny, he didn't feel this fatigued when he entered the bar. Why is it that the damn piano broke through him just like that? It wasn't like he was never acquainted with those things before but it's all in the past he thought he left behind. Now, it's coming back to haunt him. 'Stupid Cloud,' he thought, 'getting agitated over something as trivial as this.' He got up, changed his clothes, got back on the bed, and waited for sleep to come. But it didn't.

A knock. Tifa's face peered from the crack. 'Hey, I'm gonna drop off Cid. He got too much to drink again.' Without waiting for a reply, the door closed.

Cloud tossed around but his eyes refused to stay closed. Heaving a sigh, the former-mercenary got up with the intent of getting a quick drink. Maybe a glass of milk would calm him down.

'Just like a child.' He had to smirk as the bitter thought crossed his mind. How old was he now? All he was ever good at was to slash like a madman and remove those blocking his way and even in that, he failed. He gritted his teeth at the reminder of how that ex-Soldier took a certain flowergirl into the dead of the night and never gave her back. That memory was the sharpest of all he had. He could stretch out his arms and almost touch that face, Just a little more…and she was brutally ripped away. Throwing back his sheets with more force than necessary, Cloud headed downstairs.

Thud. Thud. Plunk. Pour.

He had lifted the glass to his lips when he noticed it again – the piano. 'Stop staring at me,' he silently pleaded. Somehow, his feet found his way to the antique. He reached out with the intent of breaking but all that ever came out was a caress. How long has it been?

In his mind's eye, he can see a little blond boy sitting with an older woman in front of a piano.

'Hey Cloud, let's do it again, okay?'

Softly, the melody played.

The adult Cloud snapped open the cover. For so long the man shunned the longing of his hands – after all, who ever heard of a piano-loving Soldier? – but right now, the keys were his refuge. Poising his fingers, he faltered for a moment, not knowing what to play. The years have long since blurred the sheet music he and his mother have studied another time ago. He tried so hard to recall but nothing. Only her image came unbidden from his memories.

'I'll play about you,' he whispered.

The first not he struck was unsure but the sound seemed to have taken control of his senses. Slowly, the music began to take form. He didn't have to remember the scales, diminuendos, or harmonics. His memories of her were enough. Her smile, the endearing way she talked, the night on the gondola, he wove all of that into the melody. Something settled on his chest and got heavier and heavier that tears started blurring his sight but his fingers knew their places; he could have closed his eyes and the music would have lived on. Yes, this was her story, her sadness, her happiness, her life. It had been written from the moment she crashed into her church and until this moment, it had no ending. His hands picked up the tempo as his thoughts reached them – the farewell dream, their last conversation, the Temple of the Ancients. His hands were ruthless in their assault on the piano but he never relented. This was his escape.

And then there it was, the most painful of all – the end. He didn't stop as his bitterness splashed on the ivory playground, didn't falter even though every fiber of his being was quivering and the pieces of his heart was falling on the wooden floor. As the waters took her away, the notes fell softly into place and the last chord reverberated around the walls of his heart. Finality. And yet he was never been able to let go of that failure. Without missing a beat, he banged the lid over the song. The crash resounded through the silence but failed to mask the heaving breaths the broken man was taking. Never, in all the battles he fought, had he been so exhausted like this but he felt strangely…alive.

'Cloud?'

Two figures stood in the doorway, roused from slumber by the haunting melody that floated up the steps and into their dreams. It spoke of innocence but more so of despair, tragedy, and loss. And Cloud was playing it. His face was no longer wet but they knew better. Cloud mourned for his flowergirl even now.

In his moment of relapse, Cloud forgot that there were still people who can bear witness to this and they were standing right in front of him. He tried – God, how he tried to pretend that it's all in the past now if only to give all of them peace of mind. He bowed his head, unwilling to face them in this sorry state. The sound of footsteps padding across the room filled the silence. Cloud opened his mouth to speak when warm hands came around his body.

Words are a powerful force but the warmth of these children did so much more than anything they might have said. For that beautiful moment his loss was filled by them – Marlene, who could have been her daughter, and Denzel, whom he believed she brought to him. Strong arms enveloped them and for a while, Cloud's world was alright. With them so close, he could almost feel her, the 'feeling' so strong he could smell the flowers that accompany her presence and he knew she was there. A gentle warmth settled around his back, almost as if someone had clasped her arms around his neck. Cloud held the children closer and above their heads, he said, 'Did you listen?'

Three voices answered in chorus, '..Yeah.'


End file.
